


intoxicated

by nezumiprefersdanielleovershakespeare



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 22:31:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11091276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezumiprefersdanielleovershakespeare/pseuds/nezumiprefersdanielleovershakespeare
Summary: Turns out I have another "Drunk Shion Appears in Nezumi's Apartment" fic - enjoy!Preview:Nezumi made his way back through the crowd of people, having to dodge a guy from one of his Literature classes who wanted help on an essay, and finally found himself, gratefully, at the door of his bathroom, which he opened.He stepped in, closed the door behind him, muffling the music with relief, and turned to see a kid slumped against the toilet, staring up at him with wide red eyes.“Oh, wooooooow,” the kid said.Nezumi pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, go throw up in the hallway.”He wondered vaguely how the kid’s eyes had gotten so red. It wasn’t the red eyes of a drunk guy – though the kid was definitely drunk – but his actual irises were red. Nezumi considered colored contacts. And bleach, apparently, for his hair, although Nezumi had no idea what kind of fashion statement this was supposed to make.He looked a bit like an albino dog, what with his shaggy hair and those puppy dog eyes that kept staring up at Nezumi.Didn’t the guy need to blink?“You joined me,” the kid said, as if Nezumi had somehow known a strange looking guy would be guarding his toilet.





	intoxicated

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote and posted this fic in December, 2015.
> 
> I'm reposting some of my old fics from the many accounts I previously deleted over the past few years, so if you're familiar with my fics and want to request that I repost a certain old fave, feel free to message me at my tumblr: http://coolasamackerel.tumblr.com or comment on this post: http://coolasamackerel.tumblr.com/post/160488980276/danielles-nezushifree-fics and I'll be happy to consider reposting it! For both my new readers and my old guys, hope you enjoy the fic!! :D

The moon’s shadow had wrapped itself so tightly around the sky that no stars were visible when Nezumi finally walked out of the library. He hadn’t realized it had gotten so late, as his new addiction to coffee had kept him alert, the bright library lights had rewired his internal clock, and the worlds he’d fallen into with each book had dissolved his own.

            Dangerous, books were, Nezumi was realizing. He didn’t quite enjoy being disoriented with how cold it had gotten, nor did he like peeling himself away from reality with every turn of a page only to find it waiting for him with the close of each book. But now that he was on scholarship at this fancy university, he had a fancy library at his disposal, and there was no way he wasn’t going to take advantage of that.

            It wasn’t that his books at home had gotten stale, and Nezumi didn’t mind the lack of surprise he found every time he opened one. Nezumi didn’t like surprises, after all. He preferred to know what he was getting into, every turn, every path.

            Books, maybe, were beginning to be the one exception, as Nezumi was discovering the longer he spent in his university library.

            Nezumi pulled his jacket tighter around his shoulders, hoping his roommate would be asleep by the time he got home so he wouldn’t have to deal with small talk. Even worse was when his roommate went out to party and came home drunk, his “friends” dropping him off at their dorm for Nezumi to take care of.

            Nezumi was not a fan of taking care of anyone, but he knew the dangers of alcohol poisoning, and wasn’t keen on his roommate dying on his watch. Dead bodies were known to smell, after all.

            Despite the lack of stars, something was glowing brightly as Nezumi approached his dorm building, and looking up, he saw that the glowing object was square – a window.

            Nezumi slowed, counting the windows leading up to this glowing one, took note that it was on the sixth floor. Not a good sign.

            He hardly felt the relief of warmth as he entered his building, sliding his key through the security slot and letting himself in. He took the stairs, as a throng of loud boys were in front of the elevators.

            On his floor, Nezumi followed the sound of loud music unwillingly, suspecting more and more with each step that the glowing window belonged to his own dorm room. He tightened a hand around the strap of his backpack as he approached his door, pulling out his ID again to slide it and type in his code – but the effort was unnecessary, as his door was kept open by the wedge of the lock.

            Nezumi closed his eyes briefly, then opened his door to a bass that shook his skin. A mix of light and people flooded his vision, and Nezumi grimaced.

            He’d slept at the library before, and was about to backtrack and return to the cool and calm of the night, but the group of boys who had been waiting for the elevator on the bottom floor suddenly clustered behind him.

            “Hey!” one shouted, and Nezumi stepped back into his dorm to avoid being trampled by these idiots.

            “Yo, welcome man,” another boy said, and Nezumi merely glared at him for the nerve of welcoming Nezumi into his own dorm room.

            Nezumi turned away from them and scanned around for his roommate, walking around a large group of guys standing around a girl with a bottle of vodka and chanting, “Chug! Chug! Chug!”

            “Hey, there,” another girl slurred, suddenly stepping into Nezumi’s view, forcing him to step back to avoid walking into her.

            She held a blue Solo cup that was completely empty, which was a relief, as Nezumi didn’t feel like having alcohol sloshed on him.

            “You seen my roommate?” Nezumi asked, but his voice didn’t catch over the music, and Nezumi realized everyone else must have been screaming for him to hear them.

            “What?” the girl asked – shouted – giggling. She reached out, her cupless hand falling on Nezumi’s sleeve.

            Nezumi glanced at it for a moment, then back at the girl, who smiled sloppily at him, wide and blissful.

            Nezumi lifted his free hand, pulled her hand off his arm by the wrist, dropped it, then walked away from her. Chances were, she didn’t even know who his roommate was. Half the people here were probably wanderers, drawn to the sound of the party Nezumi was eager to evacuate.

            Nezumi shoved himself through the people in his living room who had assembled themselves with floppy limbs over his couch, to his bedroom where a beer pong table had been made over Nezumi’s roommate’s desk. 

            His roommate himself leaned against a wall, talking to a girl whose back was to Nezumi.

            Nezumi made his way over to them, ignoring the invite to join the beer pong game from another girl with a vine for a hand that Nezumi had to extricate himself from.

            “Yo,” Nezumi said, not yelling, but his roommate either heard him or sensed his presence, as he turned abruptly.

            “Oh, hey, Nezumi,” he grinned.

            “Get them out.”

            “Hi,” the girl who’d been talking to his roommate said. Nezumi glanced at her to see her grin wide. She was kind of pretty, and blinked at Nezumi slowly in a way that made him positive he could easily get her away from his conversation and in his bed.

            Nezumi considered. It would be payback for his roommate throwing this party in their dorm without Nezumi’s permission, certainly.

            “Look, man, I’m sorry, I wasn’t planning this, it just happened,” Nezumi’s roommate said, and Nezumi glanced at him unfeelingly.

            “I gotta pee. When I leave the bathroom, everyone’s out.”

            “Aw, come on – ”

            Nezumi turned away before he could hear the rest of his roommate’s complaints. He already knew his roommate was scared of him – he’d heard his roommate talking to his friends in the library once, actually, when Nezumi had been behind a bookcase. Nezumi couldn’t remember that he’d done anything remotely scary, but he didn’t mind. Made it easier to get what he wanted, and right now, what he wanted was sleep.

            Well, more than that, to pee, but sleep was a high second.

            Nezumi made his way back through the crowd of people, having to dodge a guy from one of his Literature classes who wanted help on an essay, and finally found himself, gratefully, at the door of his bathroom, which he opened.

            He stepped in, closed the door behind him, muffling the music with relief, and turned to see a kid slumped against the toilet, staring up at him with wide red eyes.

            “Oh, wooooooow,” the kid said.

            Nezumi pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, go throw up in the hallway.”

            He wondered vaguely how the kid’s eyes had gotten so red. It wasn’t the red eyes of a drunk guy – though the kid was definitely drunk – but his actual irises were red. Nezumi considered colored contacts. And bleach, apparently, for his hair, although Nezumi had no idea what kind of fashion statement this was supposed to make.

            He looked a bit like an albino dog, what with his shaggy hair and those puppy dog eyes that kept staring up at Nezumi.

            Didn’t the guy need to blink?

            “You joined me,” the kid said, as if Nezumi had somehow known a strange looking guy would be guarding his toilet.

            “I did not,” Nezumi snapped. “Get up.”

            “Don’ think I can. My name’s Shion. You’re pretty,” the kid – Shion, whatever – said happily, smiling wide at Nezumi, who squinted back.

            He considered dragging the kid out, but that would risk him throwing up all over Nezumi. He looked spectacularly wasted, and definitely sounded out of it.

            “Fine, stay here. Crawl to the corner so I can pee, though, you’re blocking the toilet,” Nezumi sighed.

            The red eyes widened even more, amazingly.

            “You’re going to pee in front of me?” Shion asked, clearly astonished.

            “If you ever move,” Nezumi muttered, wishing he’d just peed at the library.

            “But then – but then I’ll see – I’ll see your – ” the kid started, and then he was giggling too much to say anything else, curling around himself.

            Nezumi stared. He was seriously a lunatic.

            Kind of cute, when he laughed, but that wasn’t relevant. What was relevant were the three cups of coffee Nezumi had downed at the library, and the way they sloshed precariously in his bladder.

            “If you don’t move, I’ll pee on you,” Nezumi threatened, but that only made the kid laugh more, clutching the toilet for support as his shoulders shook.

            He was saying something, between his laughs, something that sounded somewhat like _I dare you,_ but that couldn’t be right.

            Nezumi pulled on his bangs for a moment, then accepted that he had no other choice but to drag this kid away from the toilet. He’d have to risk getting vomit on himself, but if he angled the kid’s face away from him, avoiding any spray was possible.

            Nezumi exhaled deeply, then stepped forward and crouched in front of the kid, who immediately stopped laughing to stare at Nezumi.

            Nezumi didn’t know quite what to do with the intensity of the kid’s wide stare, and blamed it on the enormous quantity of alcohol this Shion had apparently consumed. Nezumi stared back. “Listen, if you puke on me, I will snap your neck. Do you understand?” he said quietly, threateningly, and Shion blinked once, then his face split into a grin.

             “Okay,” he said softly, around his grin, as if he would have been delighted to have Nezumi snap his neck.

            His breath was hot and reeked of booze as it fluttered across Nezumi’s nose and lips.

            Nezumi reached out. The kid was in a t-shirt and jeans, and his t-shirt rode up as Nezumi hooked one arm under his, the other under his knees.

             “You’re warm,” Shion whispered, his body immediately falling against Nezumi’s as Nezumi stood up.

             “Tilt your head the other way,” Nezumi snapped, unnerved with the close proximity of the kid’s gaze.

            Nezumi had been looked at like this before. With heavy eyelids and searching eyes that lingered thickly on his features. He knew what he looked like, and he knew what girls – and apparently, guys – thought of him.

            But it had never meant anything before. Convenient, mostly, helped him get what he wanted.

            But Shion wasn’t giving him what he wanted. He was giving him the opposite, and kept staring, arms lifting up and winding around Nezumi’s neck too tightly.

             “I’m not going to drop you,” Nezumi said, alarmed when fingers reached up into his hair.

             “Mm,” Shion said, closing his eyes, but when Nezumi turned to leave the bathroom, the kid yelped, fingers tightening in Nezumi’s hair and making him wince.

             “What?”

             “Sick, I’m gonna be…”

            It should have been instinct, to drop the kid, but instead Nezumi found himself pulling Shion’s limp body closer against his.

            Shion had turned his head, buried his face into Nezumi’s chest, lips pressing his moan directly into the fabric of Nezumi’s jacket.

             “Sh, okay, you’re going to be fine, you’re just drunk. I’m gonna take another step, just hold it in,” Nezumi murmured.

            Shion’s fingers had loosened in Nezumi’s hair, and then his arms were falling, slack. The moaning quieted.

             “Hey, you okay?” Nezumi asked, taking another step towards the bathroom door.

            The boy in his arms did not answer.

            Nezumi shook him, gently, thinking about alcohol poisoning, alarmed by how quickly the kid had passed out.

             “Yo! Hey, Shion!” Nezumi demanded.

            Shion’s head rolled along Nezumi’s arms so that his head was no longer pressing against the fabric of Nezumi’s jacket, and Nezumi could see that the red eyes had finally closed, his lips slackened.

             “Ah, shit. You better not be dead, kid,” Nezumi hissed, then adjusted the limp body in his arms so that he could free one hand to open the bathroom door.

            Outside the bathroom was eerily silent, and Nezumi was somewhat surprised he hadn’t heard the music being turned off, or the other kids evacuating. Walking around the apartment with Shion in his arms, Nezumi found it to be a wreck, but also noted that his roommate was missing. Had probably followed the party wherever it had gone.

            Nezumi wondered who Shion had come with. He didn’t think his roommate knew the kid. Surely, he would have mentioned it.

            Although, Nezumi’s roommate never mentioned anyone to Nezumi. But Shion – he just seemed like someone mentionable.

            Nezumi narrowed his eyes at the boy in his arms. The only thing mentionable about him was his strange appearance. A scar wrapped around his cheek, along his neck, dipped into the collar of his t-shirt, and Nezumi glanced at where the kid’s shirt had ridden up, caught another hint of the winding red.

            Interesting.

            Nezumi considered dropping the kid on his couch, but it was littered in plastic cups and one jacket Nezumi guessed belonged to the boy in his arms. There were two unopened condoms beside it, and Nezumi figured they’d fallen out of some guy’s pocket.

            Nezumi turned from the couch, walked into his bedroom. His roommate’s bed was covered in more cups and two girls’ scarves, so Nezumi turned to his own bed, which remained untouched. He draped the boy in his arms over it, then lifted two fingers to his neck, felt for a pulse.

            It was clear and surprisingly steady. Nezumi pressed his fingers next to the kid’s wrist, convincing himself he needed to double check – nothing to do with wanting to press his fingers a little longer over a little more of the kid’s pale skin.

            Another pulse, and Nezumi let his fingers linger for a moment, then removed them. With the kid lying in his bed, Nezumi had nowhere to sleep. He turned the boy so that he was on his side and wouldn’t choke on his own vomit – not that Nezumi much preferred vomit on his bed over clogging the kid’s own throat.

            Nezumi watched Shion for a second more, touched his bright hair gently, just to move it out of his eyes, that was all, then stepped back, shoved his hands into his pockets, and left the bedroom to finally pee.

*

“Oh….”

            Nezumi stirred, then opened his eyes at the muffled groaning. Red eyes loomed in front of his own, and Nezumi flinched back, nearly rolling off the bed, but a hand caught his wrist, jerked him forward.

            “What the – Oh, it’s you,” Nezumi said, steadying himself, though the hand didn’t fall from his wrist.

            “I feel very sick,” Shion said, words extremely enunciated in comparison to the night before.

            “Don’t vomit on my bed,” Nezumi warned, sitting up – Shion still holding his wrist.

            Shion turned to his back, looked up at Nezumi sleepily, his hair in a white halo around his head. Nezumi swallowed.

            “I’m in your bed.”

            “You’re almost as smart hungover as you are drunk,” Nezumi said, slowly, watching with fascination as the kid’s lips crept into an easy morning smile.

            “You took care of me.”

            “I didn’t,” Nezumi snapped, too quickly, and was treated to a breath of a laugh that thoroughly got on his nerves.

            “If you tell me your name, I won’t vomit on your bed.”

            “If you vomit on my bed, I’ll make you regret it.”

            “How?” Shion asked, sounding truly curious, and Nezumi narrowed his eyes at him.

            “I think you’re still drunk.”

            “I do feel hot,” Shion mused, finally letting go of Nezumi’s wrist to press the back of his palm to his forehead.

            “You’re fine enough to deal with yourself. Time to go,” Nezumi said, slipping off his bed, standing in front of it and waiting for Shion to follow.

            “What if I don’t want to?” Shion asked, propping himself up on an elbow to peer at Nezumi and noticeably _not_ getting off Nezumi’s bed.

            Nezumi narrowed his eyes. “Seeing as you don’t live here, you don’t have a choice.”

            “Are you going to carry me out?” Shion asked, lips quirking.

            “Are you going to keep talking, or are you going to get the hell out?” Nezumi demanded, annoyed by this boy, how he seemed so content in Nezumi’s bed when no one was ever content around Nezumi.

            Nezumi was scary, apparently, like his roommate said. And he liked it that way. Didn’t much like this kid who didn’t seem to feel the need to keep his distance like everyone else did, who was full of surprises, full of wide eyes and smiles that he offered too easily to Nezumi.

            Still drunk, Nezumi reminded himself. Probably.

            “We could get breakfast,” Shion said.

            “Why would I do that?” Nezumi asked – surprised again, not by Shion, but the fact that for a split second, he had considered.

            Why the hell should he want to get breakfast with a lunatic?

            “My treat. For causing you so much…inconvenience,” Shion said, around another small smile.

            “The inconvenience you’re still causing is worth a hell of a lot more than just a couple pancakes,” Nezumi snapped, reminding Shion that he didn’t like him, reminding himself that the kid was crazy.

            “We can get lunch too, then. And dinner. If you insist,” Shion said, happily.

            Wasn’t the guy supposed to be hungover and miserable?

            “You really flatter yourself, don’t you?” Nezumi asked, more amazed than annoyed at the kid’s persistence. He’d never met anyone so completely stupid as to ask Nezumi such things with that much confidence, that much happiness, that little fear.

            “I could flatter you too, if you want. You’re very beautiful,” Shion said, completely matter-of-factly, and Nezumi stepped back, alarmed at the uncalled-for sincerity of this guy.

            “You’re really an idiot, aren’t you?”

            “Do you insult everyone who compliments you?” Shion asked, leaning closer, truly curious, and Nezumi felt as if he was being looked at by someone who spent his time in labs, scrutinizing things that hadn’t asked to be scrutinized.

            “As fun as it would be to play twenty questions, I really must insist you get off my bed now,” Nezumi said flatly, refusing to play along.

            “You’re the one who put me in it.”

            “Yeah, and I regret it greatly,” Nezumi said dryly, turning away from the kid and walking out of his room.

            The boy was overwhelming. Nezumi didn’t know what to think about him, but he knew he wanted to stop thinking about him, he was definitely thinking about him too much.

            “Nezumi.”

            Nezumi turned, saw the kid in his doorway.

            “Your name is on your ID,” Shion said, holding up Nezumi’s wallet.

            “Take your detective skills back to your own home,” Nezumi responded, voice hard, needing this kid out of his dorm.

            If he didn’t leave soon, Nezumi might take him up on those offers to get food. Maybe insanity was contagious.

            Shion looked at him for a moment, then nodded, stepped forward and placed Nezumi’s wallet on his roommate’s television stand.

            “Thank you, for taking care of me last night, Nezumi.”

            Nezumi shook his head, shoved his hands in his pockets. “Whatever, you don’t have to sound so – ” Nezumi stopped talking, pulled his hand out of his pocket along with the card he’d felt inside it.

            It was his ID.

            He held it up for Shion, who glanced at it, flushed faintly, bit his lip.

            He really was cute, especially with that bedhead, Nezumi mused, slightly distracted from his confusion.

            “You were in my Intro to Lit lecture last semester. I thought about talking to you tons of times, but never did. Your roommate dropped your phone off for you that one time – do you remember? He’s in one of my classes this semester, I recognized him immediately, and he was talking about a party he was having last night, and I thought you might be here, so…” Shion shrugged.

            “You knew my name,” Nezumi said, blankly, amazed that this kid had known him for so long and Nezumi had never known he’d existed until the night before.

            He thought back to his Intro to Lit lecture. Couldn’t remember a mop of white hair – surely he would have noticed, with it as bright as it was?

            But that lecture had been Nezumi’s first college class. He’d been enthralled by his professor, the knowledge that he could now consume, so much that he’d never thought possible for himself. He hadn’t noticed much in that class but the lecture notes.

            Shion smiled again, just a small smile. “I wanted you to tell me it yourself. I know you think I’m silly.”

            “And you don’t?” Nezumi asked. What kind of reasoning was that?

            “You’re secretive. Private. If you told me your name, you’d be giving more to me than just something to call you. And I wanted that.”

            “You wanted what, exactly?” Nezumi asked slowly, not sure what to make of this kid who was claiming to know so much about him.

            “The chance to call you something,” Shion said, not smiling now, just looking at Nezumi, who looked away, shook his head – crazy, the boy was crazy – shoved his ID back into his pocket.

            “Do you hear what you’re saying?” Nezumi asked, turning away, staring at the ruins of his dorm that he sure as hell wouldn’t be helping to clean up.

            “Yes.”

            “You sound like a stalker.”

            “Does that bother you?” Shion asked, and Nezumi glanced at him.

            “What do you think?”

            “I don’t know. You don’t seem very creeped out.”

            “Well, I am. Don’t let my looks deceive you,” Nezumi replied, flatly.

            “If you want nothing to do with me after today, just tell me, and I’ll leave you alone,” Shion said simply, and the answer was easy, obvious, but it’s not what Nezumi found himself saying.

            “And what, exactly, is my other option?” Nezumi asked, slowly.

            “Well, breakfast, first, and then I think we can go from there. I’m a bit hungover to be making long term plans right now,” Shion said, tilting his head and smiling again – kid was way too damn happy, that was for sure, and he had absolutely no reason to be.

            Then again, Nezumi had absolutely no reason to be doing what he did next either.

            He closed his eyes, pulled on his bangs, then glared at the kid in his dorm room. “You’re right, you owe me. We’re not just going to the school cafeteria either. I can tell you’re rich, so you’re going to buy me a hell of a breakfast,” he snapped, completely pissed off at this kid who was only smiling wider under Nezumi’s narrowed eyes.

            “It would be my pleasure, Nezumi,” he said, even though Nezumi had not given him permission to say his name.

            He didn’t quite mind, though. The syllables sounded nice, wrapped in the crazy kid’s cheerful voice, and Nezumi thought that maybe, he could get used to it.

 

THE END


End file.
